The Book of Bamidbar - "In the desert" - begins with
G-d commanding Moshe to take a census of all men over age twenty
- old enough for service. The count reveals just over 600,000.
The Levitesare counted separately later, because their
service will be unique. They will be responsible for transporting
the Mishkan and its furnishings and putting them together
when the nation encamps. The Tribes of Israel, each with its banner,
are arranged around the Mishkan in four sections: East,
south, west and north. Since Levi is singled out, the tribe of
Yosef is split into two tribes, Efraim and Menashe, so there will
be four groups of three. When the nation travels, they march in
a formation similar to the way they camp. A formal transfer is
made between the first born and the Levites, whereby the Levites
take over the role the firstborn would have had serving in the
Mishkan if not for the sin of the golden calf. The transfer
is made using all the 22,000 surveyed Levites from one month old
and up. Only Levites between 30 and 50 will work in the Mishkan.
The remaining firstborn sons are redeemed with silver, similar
to the way we redeem our firstborn today. The sons of Levi are
divided in three main families, Gershon, Kehas and Merari (besides
the kohanim - the special division from Kehas' family).
The family of Kehas carried the menorah, the table, the altar
and the Holy Ark. Because of their utmost sanctity, the ark and
the altar are covered only by Aharon and his sons, before the
Levites prepare them for travel.

"Take a census (lit. 'lift up the head') of the sons
of Kehas ... according to their fathers' households" (4:1)

Once upon a time, there was a princess who married a king. The
king loved the princess very much. He wrote into their marriage
agreement that he would give her a king's ransom in jewels and
palaces.

Shortly after the wedding, the king was called away on urgent
business. Before he left, he told his young bride that he might
be away for a long time, but she could trust that he would eventually
return to her. A month went by. Then two. A year passed. There
was no sign of the king. Two years went by. After five years,
the people grew restless and decided to elect a new monarch. They
told the princess to forget the king, that he would never return.
But she said she knew that he would come back.

When it became known that a new king had ascended the throne,
eligible suitors started to arrive at the door of the princess,
attempting to woo her. She turned down flat every offer. She could
never think of marrying another. Eventually, everyone forgot the
king, except the princess.

Many, many years later, the king suddenly returned. He was amazed
and overjoyed that the princess was still waiting for him. He
asked the princess "How were you able to stay faithful to
me for so long?" She answered, "Whenever I used to get
a little sad and depressed, I would take out my marriage contract
from the cupboard and read all the things that you promised me.
I knew it wasn't an illusion, because it was written in black
and white."

G-d is the King. The Jewish People are the bride. The Torah is
our marriage contract.

Over three thousand years ago we went under the chupa wedding
canopy with the Master of the World. This year, on Friday the
21st of May, we celebrate our 3,311th wedding anniversary. We
don't see the King, but despite His "absence," the Jewish
People still faithfully await His "return."

What keeps us going? The inviolable pact He made with us at Sinai.
Ever since the nations gave up on the King, they have tried to
woo the Jewish People away from waiting. However, as a nation,
we have never succumbed to their blandishments.

With every year, the wait grows more difficult; further from that
wedding day some three thousand years ago. But we are still here,
and we know that His return is imminent.

In the weekly Parsha of Bamidbar, the Torah speaks about
Kehas the son of Levi. Levi had three sons: Gershon, Kehas and
Merari. Their families were charged with various aspects
of setting up and transporting the Mishkan.

There are some interesting anomalies in the way the Torah speaks
of these three families. In the census of Kehas it says "Lift
up the head of the sons of Kehas ... to their families, to the
house of their fathers."However, when the Torah
mentions the family of Gershon, it adds the words "them
as well."When speaking about the third son, Merari,
however, it doesn't mention to "lift his head"
at all.

What does all this signify?

The three sons of Levi represent three eras in the history of
the Jewish People. Kehas hints to the time that the Jewish People
will live in their land, concentrated and gathered together in
one congregation. The name Kehas comes from the word kehilla,
congregation. During this epoch, the greatness of the Jewish People
will flow directly from their illustrious ancestors, Avraham,
Yitzchak and Yaakov. Thus their "head is lifted up ...
to the house of their fathers." Their greatness will
come from the connection to the Avos (Patriarchs).

Then comes the era of the Diaspora. The name Gershon comes
from the word meaning exile. The Jewish People will wander from
place to place, never finding a permanent rest. Nevertheless it
will still be possible to say: "Lift up the head of the
sons of Gershon,them as well, to the house of their fathers."
Like the sons of Kehas, their honor and their distinction
will come from their connection to their fathers, as well.

The last phase of Jewish History is embodied by Merari. This will
be the bitterest chapter, when millions will be lost either physically
or spiritually. The name Meraricomes from the word meaning
bitter (like the maror, bitter herbswe eat at the
Seder).

When a marriage breaks down, the first thing to go is the celebration
of the anniversary. When paralysis in Torah observance sets in,
the first casualty is Shavuos. Pesach has been immortalized by
Maxwell House. Bris mila circumcision is for life. Friday
night chicken soup dies hard. Everyone wants to wave a lulav
and esrog. But Shavuos? What do you do on Shavuos?

On Shavuos, we celebrate our anniversary. In this bitterest of
epochs, the lonely bride who waits for the return of the King
is symbolized by the tribe of Merari. Of Merari, the Torah does
not say "lift up his head," for these last generations
do not derive their honor from their connection to "the house
of their fathers."

The generations who will survive a holocaust both of body and
soul will need no connection to their ancestors to establish their
worth. Their merit and their greatness will be self-evident.

They are like the princess who waits for the King.

... AND COUNTING

"Hashem spoke to Moshe...saying: Take a census of the entire assembly of the Children of Israel" (1:1,2)

Why did G-d want Moshe to count the Jewish People? Didn't He already
know how many they were? Imagine you come back from doing the
shopping, and your spouse takes out a pack of granulated sugar
and starts to count the number of sugar grains in the pack. You
would probably reach for the phone and call the doctor. However,
when the bank statement drops through the letterbox, we examine
every penny to make sure there are no mistakes.

We only count things that are important to us.

G-d wanted Moshe to count the Jewish People to show us how important
we are to Him. For every Jewish soul is an essential part of the
creation.

Samuel I 20:18 - 20:42

The obvious reason for reading this haftara when the Shabbat
is a day before Rosh Chodesh is the first verse mentioning the
morrow as a Rosh Chodesh. The episode took place after Saul decided
to kill the young David - already his son in law - to avoid the
fall of his declining reign and assure it to his worthy son Jonathan.
However, Jonathan the crown prince was a good comrade of David;
he wished to save him from death even at the expense of losing
his future throne. The haftara narrates the secret pact
of friendship between the two and how Jonathan warned David to
flee for his life by an agreed sign they had between them.

EARLY GENERATIONS

Historians and Bible critiques try to prove from this episode
that the people of antiquity had the same nature as we do, with
the same moral flaws and selfish inclinations, as seemingly King
Saul tried wrongly to kill his fellow for the sake of maintaining
his kingdom. We as believing Jews have a different outlook upon
the early generations, who were much closer to G-d and had the
privilege of Divine revelations through prophecy. Consequently
we believe they were aloof and above the moral flaws we know today.

The deeds of Saul are easily explained that at that time the nation
needed a monarchy for its survival; to this effect the Torah commands
the king to maintain his kingdom, and for this permits him to
kill people who seem a potential danger to his reign. Quite the
contrary, King Saul was only complying with the command of the
Torah when he pursued David. The proof for this is that although
Jonathan met with David after sending back the lad, he did not
relate the warning to flee with his own lips but relied upon the
agreed sign. He did not wish to transgress the Jewish law prohibiting
this, and the exchange of words between them at that meeting was
only to affirm their pact of friendship.

Selections from classical Torah sources
which express the special relationship between
the People of Israel and Eretz Yisrael

GAGOT TZERIFIN AND AYIN SUKAR: TWO PLACES, TWO GRAINS, TWO HOLIDAYS

On the second day of Pesach the Omer offering was brought
upon the altar of the Beit Hamikdash from barley flour.
On Shavuot, seven weeks later, the Two Loaves made from wheat
flour were offered in the Beit Hamikdash.

The mishna (Menachot 64b) tells us that although
the grain used in both of these offerings should come from as
close to Jerusalem as possible, where this was impossible it could
come from distant places in Eretz Yisrael as well. This
actually happened during the Hasmonean civil war, which found
Aristobolus entrenched within the walls of Jerusalem, while his
brother Hyrkonus laid siege without. The latter's forces had destroyed
all the produce in the vicinity of Jerusalem, so a call was issued
if anyone knew where barley for the Omer could be acquired.
A mute Jew came along and put one hand on a roof and another on
a shack. Mordechai, of Purim fame, asked the people if there was
a place called Gagot (Rooves), Tzerifin (Shacks) or Tzerifin Gagot.
A search was made, a place named Gagot Tzerifin was found, and
barley was secured for the Omer. When the time came to
find wheat for the Two Loaves on Shavuot, the same scenario ensued.
This time the mute placed one hand on his eye and the other in
the hole in the doorpost into which the bolt is placed. Mordechai
asked if there is a place called Ayin (Eye), Sukar (Hole) or Sukar
Ayin. Ayin Sukar was located, and wheat was brought for the Two
Loaves.

There is no other historical record of these two remote spots
that had their moment of glory in Jewish history. But the contrast
between the grains used for the Omer and the Two Loaves
mentioned in this story communicates an important message. Barley
is traditionally regarded in the Talmud as animal food, while
wheat is the staple of humans. The Omer brought on the
Festival of Freedom, Pesach, comes from barley because we achieved
only physical freedom with our Exodus from Egypt, and that is
only animal-like liberation. Only on Shavuot when we received
the Torah did we achieve the Divine guidance that endowed us with
true human intelligence and responsibility. We therefore bring
our Two Loaves from the grain that is the food of humans - wheat.

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